


Feet of Clay

by stephaniew



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-08
Updated: 2012-08-13
Packaged: 2017-11-07 07:23:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/428420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephaniew/pseuds/stephaniew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a hunt for something the Winchesters can't identify, Dean meets a woman who steals more than their case...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Word Is Spoken

It starts out like a murmur

Then it grows like thunder

Until it bursts inside of you

Try to hold it steady

Wait until you're ready

Any second now will do

Throw the door wide open

Not a word is spoken

Anything that you want to do

"Wearing and Tearing" - Led Zepplin

24 HRS AGO

"Hey, honey, sorry I'm late!" Jeff Bloomington calls out as he kicks the front door shut behind him. "A client called just as I was getting ready to walk out the door, and you know how that goes..." He pauses, dropping his briefcase on the floor in the entry way. Not hearing a response, he moved further up the hall, peeking into the kitchen. Seeing no sign of his wife, he continues down the hall to their bedroom.

"Hey, Jena," he says, pushing the door open. "Geez, you always fuss at me for tracking in dirt, but you've got it all down the hall! Are you ready to get something to...Oh, my god, Jena, no!"

~~SUPERNATURAL~~

PRESENT DAY

Dean Winchester slipps into the booth across from his brother, Sam. "Hey," he says, reaching for a menu, "did you see they have pigs in a blanket?"

Sam glances up from his laptop with a "not funny" look, and goes back to reading.

Dean chuckles, unrepentant. "Got a case for us yet?"

"I think so, yeah," Sam says as he turns the laptop to face Dean. "Last night, Madison, IN, a husband found his wife dead in their bedroom. She'd been strangled."

Dean skims over the newspaper article Sam pulled up. "Jena Bloomington, huh? Ok, so? Since when is it weird for a woman to be strangled in her home?"

"Well, she was covered in clumps of mud from their yard, and her neck was crushed," Sam says. "Like, practically crushed to bone dust."

Dean looks up from the plate of eggs and sausage that had arrived while they were talking. "Crushed into dust? That's a new one. Could a person do that? A normal person, I mean."

Sam shrugs and motions toward the computer. "Not according to my research, no. It takes an enormous amount of pressure to crush bone like that. Think the pressure of a wolf's jaw."

Dean whistles, shoveling another forkful of eggs in his mouth. "Ok, so not human. Sounds like our kinda gig. You said wolf's jaw...you're not thinking werewolf are you?"

"No, there was no other damage. The heart was intact, nothing else was touched. The weird thing is the mud."

"What's weird about mud?"

"Well, she was covered in it and it was tracked through the house. Straight path back to the bedroom. It came from their backyard, but they haven't had any rain in Madison in 3 weeks. No way should anyone have been able to drag that much into the house," Sam replies.

Dean shrugs, not necessarily seeing the connection. "What else? I know you've got something else..."

"She's the third person in Madison in less than two weeks to die the same way," Sam replies, a slight smile crossing his face.

Dean swallows his last bite of eggs and pushes the plate away. Standing, he tosses some bills on the table. "Alrighty then, Sammy, looks like we got a case! Let's hit the road."

~~SUPERNATURAL~~

Four hours later, Sam and Dean are knocking on the door of the Bloomington house, dressed in their standard issue FBI suits.

Jeff Bloomington answers the door, looking haggard. "Yes, can I help you?"

"Yes, Mr. Bloomington, I'm Agent Garcia and this is my partner, Agent McKernan," Sam says, as they both hold up their FBI "badges." "We're investigating your wife's death and we're hoping to ask you a few questions."

It seems to take a few seconds for Bloomington to absorb the information, but he finally steps back and gestures them inside. "Please, come in. I had no idea the FBI was interested in this case."

Seated in the living room and having declined coffee, Dean begins by asking about how Bloomington had found his wife.

"I came home late from work, around 7 PM, I think. We were supposed to go out to dinner, but I got a client call right as I was leaving," Jeff says, his eyes taking on a faraway look as he remembers. "I called out to her when I came in, but didn't get an answer. I walked down the hall and saw the clumps of mud. I said something about her complaining about me tracking mud in the house." He pauses for a moment, a sad smile on his lips. "When I opened the bedroom door, I saw her..." his voice cracks slightly, but he continues. "I saw her there on the floor. I thought maybe she'd fainted, but her head..."

Seeing the man's distress, Sam speaks up. "Yes, Mr. Bloomington, thank you. Um, can you think of anyone who might have wanted to hurt your wife? Someone she'd been having trouble with at work, maybe?"

Bloomington shakes his head, as much to dislodge the vision of his wife on the floor, neck twisted at that unnatural angle, as to answer the question. "No, not anyone that I can think of really."

"What did your wife do for a living, Mr. Bloomington?" Sam asks.

"She was a paralegal. Worked for a law firm here in town, Northingham, Grant," Jeff says. "But I can't imagine anyone there wanting to hurt Jena. She loved her job." He smiles again, the same sad smile he'd worn before. "She used to say she was using her powers for good instead of evil by helping the clients get justice."

Sam smiles gently and nudges Dean. "Would you mind if we had a look around, Mr. Bloomington? Just to get a feel for the scene?"

Jeff waves a hand toward the hallway. "Sure, go ahead. The bedroom is at the end of the hall on the right." He hesitates. "It's the way it was when the police left it. I haven't been able to go in there since..." His voice dies out as he swallows hard, dropping his gaze to the floor.

"That's ok, Mr. Bloomington," Sam replies, "we'll find our way."

The boys make their way down the hall to the bedroom and step inside. Dean surreptitiously pulls out the EMF meter, sweeping it around the room. "No EMF," he says, slipping the device back in his pocket, "so probably not a ghost."

Sam checks the window sills and around the door. "No sulfur, either. See any hex bags?"

"No, nothing in the bathroom. Did you check everything in here?" Dean says, moving out the master bath and back into the bedroom.

Sam drops the mattress back into place and dusts his hands off. "Nope, nothing."

Dean surveys the room, hands on his hips, trying to find something they or the police had missed. "Damn. Now what?"

Sam sighs. "I guess it's back to the motel for some more research. Maybe you could go down to the morgue and see what you can find out there."

Rolling his eyes, Dean strides out of the room. "Great, I get the dead bodies and you get to sit at the hotel and drink beer while you surf the web."

Sam snickers as he follows him out of the house and out to the car.

~~SUPERNATURAL~~

It's several hours later before Dean flips open the motel room door, slamming it behind him. He pulls at the knot on his tie, loosening it halfway, before tossing the files in his hand onto the table near Sam. Without saying a word, he walks to the mini-fridge, pulls out a beer, and knocks half of it back all at once.

Sam looks up from the book he's reading, eyebrow raised, a bemused smile on his face. "How'd it go with the coroner?"

"Oh, it was a freakin' blast, I'll tell you. Lookin' at a pretty young woman's head twisted mostly off her shoulders was exactly how I wanted to spend my afternoon." Dean flops back on the bed, beer dangling from one hand, as he flings his other forearm over his eyes.

Sobering, Sam flips through a few more pages in his book before tossing it aside. "Sorry."

"Well, I didn't get a whole lot more from the coroner, other than confirmation Jena Bloomington died the same way as the other two victims," Dean says, not moving the arm covering his eyes. "All of them were covered in mud from their own yards," he continues, "but no one's been able to figure out how it got there." The hand holding the beer gestures toward the files. "I was able to charm copies of the files out of the receptionist, though."

Sam shook his head, smothering a grin. "Of course you were," he says, picking up one of the files and glancing through it. He tosses it back on the table, rubbing his eyes. "We gotta figure out where this thing's gonna be next, Dean, or we're never gonna find out what it is."

"Bright idea, Edison, but how the hell are we gonna do that?" Dean snarks, sitting up and draining the last of the beer.

Rolling his eyes, Sam turns back to the files and books littering the table. "The answer has to be in these files somewhere. I don't think these victims are random, so we need to find the connection."

Dean sighs, standing to shrug off his suit jacket and beginning to unbutton his dress shirt. "Fine, let me get outta this monkey suit and I'll get my crystal ball so we can get on it."

~~SUPERNATURAL~~

"You know, if we get arrested, I am totally diming you out for whatever deal they'll give me," Dean hisses as he shifts for the hundredth time, trying to find a comfortable spot in the chilly dirt of Laura White's backyard.

"Shhhh," Sam hisses back. "You're going to get us arrested if you don't stop complaining and moving around."

Dean grunts, rolling his head side to side to release the kinks in his neck. They've been sitting in this woman's backyard for some two hours now. It's nearing 2 AM, it's cold, and there's no sign of anyone or anything. "Tell me again why you think she's the next victim..."

"Because, Dean, she fits the profile," Sam replies, shifting his own position so he can lean back against the white picket fence surrounding the backyard. "All three victims so far were young women, professional, and from this area," he says, ticking off the points on his fingers as he speaks. "They were also all clients of the local coffee shop and the local fitness center. I'm thinking someone at one of those places is responsible."

Dean merely grunts again, rubbing his hands together in an attempt to warm them. As he's opening his mouth to grumble at Sam again, there's a noise from near the front gate. The brothers look at each other briefly, then slip from their hiding place, moving as quietly as possible toward the sound.

Sam leads the way, gripping a sawed off shotgun loaded with rock salt tightly. Dean follows a few feet back, pearl handled pistol pointed down at his side. The noise from the front comes again, a low keening tone. As the brothers round the last set of hedges, Sam stops short at the sight in front of him, nearly causing Dean to fall over him.

"Damn it, Sam, what are you..." Dean's voice trails off as he catches sight of what caused his brother to stop so abruptly. "What the hell is..." But Dean doesn't get to finish his sentence before all hell breaks loose.

The whatever it was in front of them turns toward them when it hears their voices and starts to move in their direction, still making that same odd noise, something almost like a whale's song.

Dean shifts to Sam's side, aiming the pistol at the thing's head and pulling the trigger. The bullet sails right through the figure, shattering part of the fence behind it. "Not good, not good," he mutters as he aims and fires again, hoping to at least slow the creature.

He empties the clip, doing precisely zero damage. Sam raises his shotgun, but before he can get off a round of salt, another figure appears from the shadows.

The new figure swiftly approaches the creature from the front, reaches for what appeared to be its hand, and rubs it. Seconds later, the creature crumbles into a pile of dirt at the newcomer's feet.

Finally gathering his wits back about him, Dean flicks on his flashlight and points it and the newly re-loaded pistol at the intruder. A dark haired young woman, dressed in jeans and a heavy coat turns slowly, raising her hands in submission as she hears Dean ratchet a round into the chamber.

"Well, if it isn't the Winchesters," she says, a slightly mocking edge to her voice. "I didn't know you boys were in town."


	2. Chasing Shadows

Chapter 2 - Chasing Shadows

Chasing shadows, over my walls

with myself hardly sleeping

Dwarfs and giants, twenty feet tall

fill the room with their creeping

Sounds of breathing sharpen my ears

then they fade into nothing

-"Chasing Shadows" Deep Purple

 _"Well, if it isn't the Winchesters," she_ _says_ _, a slightly mocking edge to her voice. "I didn't know you boys were in town."_

There's no time for a response as lights are coming on all over the neighborhood. Dean grabs the mystery girl's arm and drags her along with them through the backyard to the alley. Tossing her in the backseat of the Impala, Dean guns it onto the main road, just missing the police cars heading in.

"What's your name?" Dean demands, glancing at their passenger in the rearview mirror.

"Sophia Kane," she replies, arms crossed as she stares out the window.

"What the hell were you doing at that woman's house? And what the hell was that thing?" he asks roughly.

She meets his eyes in the mirror, eyebrow cocked in disbelief. "You don't even know what you're hunting?" She snickers softly, directing her eyes back out the window. "Guess the reality doesn't quite live up to the legend."

Sam turns to face her. "No, we couldn't find anything to tell us what it was. How did you figure it out? I went through all the literature I could find, but kept coming up empty."

Sophia gives him an appraising glance and says, "So that part's true at least, you  _are_ the smarter brother." Sam grins as Dean snorts, glaring at Sophia in the mirror. "Did you read anything on golems?"

Sam's face immediately turns thoughtful. "Golems? I've heard of them...from Jewish mysticism. But I had no idea they were real."

She shrugs. "Yeah, well, I've given up thinking legends can't possibly be real." She sits forward, her attention seriously on Sam now. "Tell me what you know."

Dean interrupts, "Whoa, whoa, wait just a minute. Why should we tell you anything?"

She rolls her eyes and sits back, arms crossed again. "Fine, whatever."

"Dean," Sam says in a low voice, "she could help us. She already knows what this thing is and what to do with it. And she was obviously smart enough to figure out who the next victim was gonna be. We should work with her."

Before Dean can huff an objection, Sophia pipes up, "Excuse me, but who said anything about working together? I work alone. And I was here first...with the correct answer."

"Look lady, I don't know who the hell you are but the last woman who just dropped out of the sky on us like that was a demon, so forgive my lack of trust," Dean growls. "I'm not turning anything over to you until I get some more answers."

"Yeah, heard about the demon girlfriend, nice job on that," she replies with a snort. "But I'm not a demon and I'm not looking for your 'trust' or your help. I had this hunt first, and I don't answer to you, so if you'll just let me out at the next corner, you boys can be on your way." She grabs the back of the seat and leans forward, snapping, "Out of town."

Dean's jaw tightens and his eyes narrow as he finds her gaze in the mirror. "Not a chance, sweetheart. You're not..."

Sam jumps in before this gets any further out of hand. "Dean, Sophia, come on," he says, raising his hands in surrender. "Enough bickering, we still have a case to work. Why don't we pool our resources and get this thing done before anyone else gets hurt?"

Dean and Sophia both shoot glares in Sam's direction, but don't offer any further argument.

"Good," Sam continues, "now let's a find a place to get something to eat and figure this out, ok?"

~~~SPN~~~

Dean enters the diner and looks around for his brother and their "guest." Spotting them at a booth in the back, he weaves his way through the tables toward them.

As he gets closer, he can hear them talking. Chatting and laughing like old friends. God, Sam had probably turned the puppy eyes on her and had her eating out of his hand. Though he has to admit she is pretty. And when she laughs at something Sam says, he almost can't stop a smile of his own.

When he slides into the booth next to Sam, however, her face closes down and she gives him a suspicious glare. "So?" she asks.

"So what?" he replies, reaching across Sam for a menu.

She crosses her arms and leans back against the booth. "So did I pass the background check?"

Neither of them hears Sam's sigh. They're too busy glaring at each other.

"As a matter of fact, you did," he says as he snags some crackers from the tray of a passing waitress. His flirty smile derails her protest, earning him a giggle instead. He ignores the gagging sound from Sophia's side of the table and continues. "I made a few calls and it looks like you're on the up and up."

"You made a few calls?" Sam says skeptically.

Dean shrugs, stuffing some of the crackers in his mouth. "Ok, fine, I called Bobby. He says her family's been hunting for generations and she's legit." He doesn't, however, share Bobby's observation that she's got a reputation as one of the finest hunters out there. That smart mouth of hers is already giving him heartburn and he's not going to give her any more ammunition to wave in his face.

"Well golly," Sophia interjects, "call me honored to get the great Dean Winchester seal of approval."

He tosses her a cocky grin. "You may have had the rest, but now you've had the best, babe."

"I'd say don't flatter yourself, but it appears I'd be far too late," she retorts. "And  _don't_  call me babe."

"Fine, sweetheart."

Wondering if they've noticed how closely they've leaned across the table toward each other, Sam intervenes before either can shoot off another barb. "Great, now that we're all one big happy family, can we get on with the case?"

Dean opens his mouth to respond, but Sam silences him with a look, which in turn causes Sophia to give him a wicked grin before sticking her tongue out at him.

For a moment he's distracted by what else she could do with that tongue and the sassy mouth that goes with it. Shaking his head to dispel the images, he pushes those thoughts away. God knows the last thing he needs is to get involved. Especially not with a woman who travels in his circle, so to speak.

He tunes back in to the conversation just as the waitress arrives to take their orders. He turns up the charm on her, trying to ignore the fact he's only doing it to irritate Sophia.

"So," Sophia resumes, "how much do you know about golems?"

"Not a whole lot," Sam replies. "Just that they're based in Jewish mysticism. Basically made from dirt and animated somehow."

Sophia relaxes back in the booth and falls into lecture mode easily. She directs her words to Sam, but she can't help but find her gaze drifting toward Dean occasionally. She tells herself it's only to see if he's actually getting any of this.

"Ok, so let's back up then," she begins. "The legend of the golem is found in the Sefer Yetzirah, the Hebrew Book of Creation. The first applications of the legend aren't really clear, but the most famous story involves the chief rabbi of Prague back in the 16th century. He created a golem to help stop the ant-Semitic attacks on Jews in the ghettos of Prague. At first, everything was great and the golem worked pretty well. But, the story goes, the golem became increasingly violent, started killing lots of gentiles and generally wreaking a bunch of havoc, so the Holy Roman Emperor begged the rabbi to destroy the creature."

"But how are they created? Does the legend say?" Sam asks.

"Yeah, and how did you make the thing crumble into dust like that?" Dean interrupts.

Sophia leans across the table, folding her hands across her arms. "Well, the Sefer Yetzirah gives the incantations and whatnot, but the really fascinating part is that it uses words."

"Words?" Sam says with a frown.

She nods, her eyes dancing as she warms to the subject. "It's a serious illustration of the power of the Word," she says. "The golem is made of dirt or clay, but only becomes animated when the word 'emet,' Hebrew for 'truth,' is inscribed on it. To destroy it, you remove the first letter, 'aleph,' and the word becomes 'met,' or death. A single letter has the power to create or destroy."

"That's what we saw you do in the yard then. You rubbed out the first letter and it turned to dust," Sam says, unable to hide the fascination and admiration from his voice.

Sophia sits back with a grin. "Yup, that's it."

Dean taps his fingers on the table. "But what's to stop whoever's making these from making more? If all he needs is dirt and incantations, can't he just make another one?"

Sophia's grin turns to a frown. "Yeah, he can make more, so we need to find whoever it is and stop them." She pauses. "There's more to the legend, though."

Dean rolls his eyes. "Of course there is."

She snickers and continues. "One of the problems with golems is that they're very simple creatures and not all that bright. Extremely literal. Whoever created the thing may not have ever intended to kill anyone, but depending on the order given, that was the result."

"Goody for him, but it  _is_ killing people and it has to stop," Dean says.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But my point is, now that whoever's making the golem knows what it can do, this could get worse before it gets better. Plus, there's a danger to the bad guy too."

"Danger to the creator?" Sam asks.

"Yeah, one of the main lessons in the golem stories over time is that of hubris," she replies. "The creation of life is God's domain, if you believe in that sort of thing, so any time humans start trying to create life from scratch, there's gonna be issues. In many of the stories, the golem eventually turns on its master and destroys him."

The waitress chooses that moment to appear with their food and there's silence for a few moments as each of them settle down to eat.

"So what's the next step?" Dean asks as he crunches at a piece of bacon.

Sam looks across at Sophia. "I'm thinking we're back to victimology. Dig deeper into what these people had in common and find the connection."

Sophia nods. "I've narrowed the pool down to the gym and the coffee shop. That's how I found Laura."

"Yeah, I found the same thing. But it looks like we're going to have to dig a little more."

Sophia stops eating and watches the brothers for a moment.

"You got something else, Sophia?" Sam asks curiously. Her expression says she's trying to decide whether she wants to share something with them.

She nods slowly, apparently making her decision. "It's not something I like to advertise," she says quietly, "but I'm pretty good with spellwork. I've been working on a way to try to track the golem back to its master. I gathered up some of that dirt tonight, and I'm hoping it can help me get a better lock on the energy trail."

"Energy trail?" Dean says incredulously. "What are you, a witch? Please tell me you're not a witch."

Sophia rolls her eyes and her face closes down again. "No," she says tightly, her eyes dropping to her plate, "I'm not a witch. I just know a few things about spells and incantations, that's all."

Sam kicks Dean under the table, shooting him a "shut the hell up" look as he does. "Ignore my brother, Sophia. I'm curious to see what you've done and how it works. I say we take advantage of whatever tools we have available."

Sophia smiles at Sam, a touch of relief in her dark eyes. She doesn't like to share that little tidbit because the reaction is too often just like Dean's. Either people think she's a nut or she's creepy.

"Alright, fine, whatever," Dean mumbles, sliding out of the booth. He tries to ignore the little prick of jealousy he feels as Sophia and Sam smile at each other. He really should just be glad Sammy's talking to a girl.

Dean throws a few bills on the table to cover their meal, waving away Sophia's offer to contribute. "Let's get outta here. This case ain't gonna solve itself."


	3. Fool for the Chase

Back at the motel, the three split up to get some sleep before continuing their research.

Hours later, Sophia knocks on the door of the Winchester's room, then shoves her hands in her pockets. She's not particularly used to working with anyone, certainly not anyone with the reputation these boys have. Sam is a sweetheart, smart and dedicated. Dean, on the other hand...he's undeniably hot and there's definitely a spark, but his love 'em and leave 'em reputation precedes him. She pushes him out of her thoughts as Sam opens the door and motions her in.

"Well, well, it's about time, Sleeping Beauty," Dean snarks from his spot at the small table.

Sophia rolls her eyes and shrugs off her jacket. "I've been working. And what is it you've accomplished, sugar?" she replies breezily, looking over his shoulder.

Snagging the copy of Busty Asian Beauties he's trying to hide under a book, she flips casually through the pages. "Glad to see you've been occupying yourself, Winchester," she snorts. "It's a wonder you haven't already caught the golem and put this whole case to bed."

Dean snatches the magazine back and tosses it on the table. The word "bed" catches his attention and a brief image of her writhing beneath him fills his head. He swallows hard and tries to erase the image. She's interested in Sam, not him. "I can do more than one thing at a time."

She laughs. "Oh yeah, I'm sure the research you do when all the blood in your big boy brain has gone south is quality stuff."

Sam interrupts Dean's comeback by stepping up to the table with his laptop. "Are you two about finished? We've got work to do."

Sophia instantly switches to hunter mode and huddles over the computer with Sam. They discuss some of the variations on the golem legend as well as various theories on how to locate the master. To anyone looking on, it would appear as if they've been working together for years.

Dean tunes out the conversation, lost in all their technical jargon about search patterns and grids. Watching the two of them, he reminds himself it's a good thing Sam seems to be interested in this girl. It's been a long time and he's sure Sam gets lonely sometimes.

His gaze focuses on Sophia. Her deep brown hair shines in the light from the table lamp. Her skin is pale, but her cheeks have a healthy glow. Dark, animated eyes flick back and forth between Sam and the computer as they continue their conversation. She's really something to look at if he's honest.

That she's smart and sassy and has a great sense of humor just adds to the whole package. If he was going to pick a girl... He blinks. If he was going to pick a girl for  _his_   _brother,_ she'd be a pretty good fit. And they seem to be getting along great.

Just then, as if she feels his gaze on her, Sophia's eyes raise to meet his and she quirks an eyebrow. He drops his eyes back to the book in front of him, trying to ignore the sudden hitch in his breath when she looks at him.

"You know, Dean, the reading might go faster if you turned the book right side up," she says dryly as Sam moves away to gather up some files.

He grits his teeth and flips the book around. "Maybe I'm just that good, babe," he growls.

The ghost of a smile tilts up her lips. "I'll just bet you are," she murmurs. She winks at his surprised look and stands.

"Hey, Sam," she calls, "come by my room when you're ready to work the spell stuff. I've got everything set up."

Sam waves a hand, but doesn't look up from the files "Got it. I'll be right behind you."

Sophia leans over the table towards Dean. "Catch ya later, smart guy."

She closes in on him, her breath drifting across his cheek, eyes glowing. "And I told you," she says lightly, her finger trailing down over his arm as he stares at her. "Don't call me babe."

She turns and strides from the room, grabbing her jacket as she goes. As the door clicks behind her, she hears Sam's chuckle as he says, "You can close your mouth now, Dean, she's gone."

~~~SPN~~~

Sophia spends the remainder of the evening showing Sam what she's done with the spellwork. It's fairly complex, but Sam follows easily and even makes a few suggestions to improve its accuracy.

Dean had declined to join them, which left Sophia feeling a little hurt. Given his reaction to her revealing the talent earlier, she isn't surprised but she has to admit it stings. Besides, she tells herself, she didn't really want to see him all that badly anyway. All he does is hassle her. She ignores the voice in the back of her head calling her all kinds of a liar.

Late in the evening, they go out for food and then drinks. Sitting in the bar, they trade war stories of monsters they've hunted and other hunters they've met. The easy camaraderie is new to all of them, but they find it's nice to just kick back and have a little fun.

Sophia and Dean spend most of the night sparring, with Sam trying to play peacekeeper when things get out of hand. Neither seemed to notice how close they end up sitting or how frequently they invade the other's personal space.

The liquor is enough to take the edge of Sophia's inhibitions and when a favorite song comes on the jukebox, she can't resist. "C'mon, Dean," she murmurs, holding out a hand, "dance with me. I love this song."

Dean glances over at Sam and quickly turns her down. "Nah, sorry, babe, I don't dance. And what the hell kind of song is this anyway?"

She flinches and draws her hand away. "Right, sure. Sorry I bothered you with my stupid request."

 _Damn_ , he thinks. He only meant to push her toward Sam, not hurt her feelings. Unable to think of anything to say to fix the situation, he remains silent, staring down into his glass with a frown.

Sam jumps into the awkward silence. "I like this song, too," he says, his smile bringing out the dimple on his cheek. "Let's go." He stands quickly, reaching for her.

She looks up at him in relief and slips her palm into his. As she lets him draw her out to the dance floor, she tries to dampen the hurt from Dean's rejection. She should know better. He's not the kind of guy she'd want to get involved with anyway. She's not into one-night stands and Dean Winchester is the king of those.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she focuses on Sam. She looks up at him and gives him a dazzling smile as he sweeps her onto the floor among the other couples.

She wouldn't have pegged him as a dancer, but he's quite good and they quickly fall into a rhythm. The extra foot in height he has on her allows them some extra freedom of movement and they take advantage. Swinging and swirling through the crowd, both are breathless when the song comes to an end.

Laughing, they start to make their way off the dance floor, but a slow song comes on and many of the couples fall into a slow two-step. Sam raises an eyebrow at her and she nods in return, rewarding him with another bright smile.

Sophia sighs softly and relaxes into the dance. Her thoughts wander to Dean again, wondering why he pushes her so hard. Why he was so resistant to her invitation to dance. Why she even cares.

Sam looks down at her, a slight grin on his handsome face. "You know he likes you, right?"

She starts and nearly stumbles. "What? He who? I don't..."

Sam laughs, twirling her in a short circle before bringing her back into his arms. "Dean. He likes you."

Trying to hide the blush she knows is now creeping up her neck, she blows his comments off. "I don't know what you're talking about, Sam. All we do is fight. He's not happy unless he's insulting me. And he just turned down my offer to dance. Don't know how you get like out of that."

He shrugs. "He's my brother. I know him better than anyone." He snickers. "When you were in grade school, wasn't there a boy who pulled your hair or chased you on the playground? Because he liked you?"

"Well, yeah, I guess," she replies. "So what? Dean has all the emotional maturity of a fourth grader so he's doing the grown up version of pulling my hair?"

Sam snorts. He twirls her around again, so she can see Dean as he sits at their table. "OK, I'd give him a little more credit than that, but, basically, yeah." Rolling his eyes, he continues. "He's doing it because he likes you but he wants you to like me."

"Oh, for God's sake, this really is grade school," she says with a shudder. "Are you freaking kidding me?"

"I wish I was." He nods his head in Dean's direction. "Look at him," he says. "He's sitting over there, burning up with jealousy because I'm slow dancing with you. But he's telling himself it doesn't matter because he wants me to be happy."

Surreptitiously, she glances back at Dean. His face is pretty tough to read, but Sam might be right. A slow smile crosses her face and she looks up at Sam again.

His eyes meet hers and an answering smile forms. "Oh," he breathes, "you're an evil woman."

She laughs, knowing he's thinking exactly what she's thinking. "I know, but he deserves it." She winks. "So, are you with me, Sam?"

Sam glances across the room to confirm Dean's still watching them, then leans down and brushes his lips along her jaw to her ear. "Yeah, I'm with you," he murmurs as she presses closer to him with a flirtatious purr. "Let's have a little fun with Dean, shall we?"


	4. Double Trouble

" _Let's have a little fun with Dean, shall we?"_

Sam and Sophia finish the dance with much swaying and giggling. At the end, Sam raises her hand to his lips and kisses the back of it. Her smile is delighted as she looks up at him, eyes laughing.

They walk back to the table, fingers intertwined. Sam pulls out her chair and Sophia slips onto it. Scooting his own closer to hers, Sam sits as well, still holding her hand.

Dean stares at their hands for a moment, missing the quick look that passes between them. "Must have been some dance," he mutters, dragging his gaze back to his drink.

"Sam's an amazing dancer," Sophia gushes brightly. "I had no idea!"

Sam smiles and ducks his head shyly. "You're not so bad yourself."

Sophia raises her beer and takes a swallow. She giggles again. "A really good dancer...and you know what they say about good dancers..."

Dean flinches and takes a quick swallow of his drink.  _Yeah, he knows._ His eyes drift again to their joined hands. Now Sophia's thumb is tracing circles over Sam's.

Sam leans toward Sophia and drapes his long arm around the back of her chair. "And what is it they say about good dancers?" His eyes and the dimple on his cheek say he knows already, but wants to hear her say it.

She snickers and turns her head to whisper in his ear, her free hand resting on his shoulder as she does.

Sam chuckles in response. "No kidding? I guess you'll have to be the judge of that, huh?"

Dean jumps out of his chair as if someone just jabbed him with a cattle prod. He reaches for his wallet and tosses a few bills on the table. "I think I'm gonna head back to the motel," he mumbles. "You guys have fun."

"Sure you don't want another drink, Dean?" Sam asks, but his eyes never leave Sophia. She smiles back at him, dropping her hand from his shoulder to his thigh.

Dean draws a deep breath and tries to school his features into something like a smile. "No. No, I'm done. I'll catch up with you later."

He shrugs on his coat and hightails it to the door as if a pack of hellhounds were on his heels.

He's too far away to hear Sam and Sophia burst into laughter and toast each other.

~~~SPN~~~

It's nearly 3AM when Dean hears Sam's key in the lock. Not that he's keeping track of the time, of course.

He slows his breathing, so Sam will think he's asleep. He's not really in the mood to hear what Sophia is like in bed. Of course, Sam's not the type to kiss and tell, but still. Plus, Dean has had plenty of time to think about what she'd be like while laying there staring at the ceiling for hours.

Sam spends a few minutes in the bathroom, then comes out and quietly slips into bed. Dean can hear his breathing even out almost immediately.  _Lucky bastard._

A few hours later, Dean gives up on sleeping. Needing to get out of the room and clear his head, he dresses and goes outside. He's trying to decide whether to take a drive somewhere or or just sit when he hears a door further down open quietly.

Looking down the row of rooms, he instantly recognizes Sophia's form as she pulls the door shut behind her and steps quickly to her car.  _What the hell is she doing out at this time of day?_ he thinks with a frown.  _And shouldn't she be sleeping off her go round with Sam?_

He watches her slip behind the wheel of the car and impulsively decides to follow her. God only knows what kind of trouble she could get up to on her own.

He follows her to a small house just a few blocks away from the one they'd met a few nights ago. He parks far enough behind her to stay out of sight and sees her slip into the backyard. Getting out of the car, he closes the door as quietly as possible and darts into the yard.

When he reaches the backyard, he sees Sophia bent over a spot with recently disturbed dirt. She scoops some into a bag and starts to stand. Before she can get all the way up, he's on her, one arm slipping around her waist, the other over her mouth.

She struggles immediately, trying to elbow him and then stomping at his instep.

His hissed curse stills her, however, and he quickly turns her in his arms.

"Dean?" she whispers, fury making her voice tight. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Me? What the hell do you think  _you're_  doing out here alone?"

She rolls her eyes and shoves at him. "I'm gathering evidence." She finally wrenches from his grasp and stalks across the yard.

With a growl, he follows her, catching up to her at the door to her red Mustang. "You shouldn't be by yourself," he snaps. "It's too dangerous."

"Oh, please," she says, eyes flashing. "Spare me the poor little woman shouldn't be out by herself speech. I've been hunting on my own for years. And I'm still here!" She looks him up and down with disdain. "So you can save the knight in shining armor act for someone who might actually buy it."

Elbowing him out of her way, she hops into the car, fires it up and roars off down the street before he can respond.

Mumbling curses under his breath, he walks back to his car and follows her.  _Again_.

~~~SPN~~~

Driving like an idiot gets him back to the motel at the same time she does. He parks beside her and meets her at the door to her room, pushing inside right behind her.

She spins, and her face flushes with anger. "Who invited you into my room? Get out!"

"You didn't let me finish back at the house," he snarls, closing in on her. She stands her ground, her face paling slightly, but her chin coming up in defiance.

"Ok, fine," she says, her arms crossed over her chest. "Finish and then get the hell out."

"Fine. I didn't say you shouldn't be out there alone because you're a woman, damn it. I didn't think you should be out there alone because of the golem."

She blinks at him, but doesn't reply.

"I assume you were out there because you thought that was the next victim," he says. She nods faintly and he continues. "Well, what if it had been there? What if whoever's been making the damned things had been there? You'd have been alone without backup."

She relaxes slightly, but her eyes are still angry. "Dean, try to remember I've been hunting without backup since I was 20. I've  _never_  had backup. And I got along just fine."

His anger eases a little and he realizes how close they're standing. How beautiful she looks with her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling with rage. How fantastic she smells. He struggles against the shift as anger turns to desire.

He shrugs. "Yeah, well, on this job you have backup. So get used to it."

"I don't need a babysitter, Dean."

Was it his imagination or did she actually sway even closer to him? He watches her closely. "Good," he murmurs, his eyes flickering to her mouth, "cuz I've got no interest whatsoever in being your babysitter."

"Don't think that means you get to be interested in being anything to me," she says with a smirk. It's intended effect is lost, however, in the breathy quality her voice takes on.

He moves closer, almost touching her and this time, she steps back. She doesn't get far, however, because the wall is right behind her. A brief look of panic flashes through her eyes and he gives her a predatory smile.

"Oh, I'm interested in all kinds of things, babe. You have no idea."

She sighs softly as he leans into her, the weight of his hard body pressing her back against the wall. "Don't call me..."

The rest of her words are cut off as his mouth captures hers. His tongue flicks over her lower lip and she opens to him without protest. With a groan, his tongue slips inside, dueling with hers. She tastes amazing. Warm and sweet. Better than he imagined.

He moves one hand to her hip as he leans into her, the other tangling in her hair. He feels her hands around his waist, fingers digging into his back. Her eager response encourages him, sets him on fire. He forgets everything but the feel of the woman in his arms.

His hand teases under the hem of her t-shirt, finding soft skin. Her small hum of pleasure vibrates through him and he shivers. Needing a breath, he breaks the kiss, but sucks her lower lip in his mouth, nibbling at it, not willing to lose contact.

Her eyes flutter open and she breathes his name as she arches against him. With a low growl, he kisses her again, tongue hungry against hers. His hand moves further up under her shirt, flirting with the edge of her bra.

The spell is interrupted by Dean's cell phone, startling the two apart. "Son of a..." he mutters, pulling the phone out of his pocket and checking the caller id.

His face pales and he stares at Sophia, guilt written all over his handsome face. "God..." He swallows hard and answers the call. "Sam. Yeah, I'll be right there." Flipping it shut, he rubs a hand over his mouth, as if to wipe away what he's just done.

Sophia flushes, her eyes dropping from his as she straightens her shirt, plucking restlessly at the hem.

His stomach churning with shame, Dean turns and walks out of the room. How would he face Sam? What could he do to make this right? Finally, his baby brother had gotten the girl and he had to screw it up. Jesus, this sucked. The click of the door behind him is loud and final.

Hopefully, it wouldn't be the end of Sam's chance to be happy...or the downfall of his own relationship with his brother.


	5. You Really Got Me

Dean's feet are heavy with guilt as he trudges down the sidewalk to the room. God, he does  _not_  want to explain to his brother how he just kissed Sophia. Just ruined everything. As usual.

He swings the door open and steps inside, letting it fall shut quietly behind him. Leaning against it, he raises his gaze to Sam.

"Hey, I've got some good..." Sam stops, staring at his brother with wide eyes. "What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry, Sam."

Sam raises an eyebrow. "Sorry for what?"

Shame makes him nearly incoherent as he rambles out a convoluted answer. "I didn't mean for it to happen. I just saw her leaving. It was early and I didn't think she should be out alone so I followed her. Then there she was and I grabbed her and she was pissed I came after her, but she wouldn't let me explain. So, I followed her back here and we were yelling and all of a sudden..."

Dean takes a breath and finishes quietly. "All of a sudden I was kissing her."

Nearly choking, Sam says, "You kissed Sophia?"

Dean nods miserably. "Yeah, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done it. It just kind of...happened." He looks up, still not able to meet Sam's eyes.

"But it'll be okay, Sam. I saw you guys last night and she really likes you. This was just this one time thing. No reason you can't still be with her. I promise I won't..."

Sam interrupts with a wave of his hand. "Wait, you kissed her and walked out?"

Dean frowns, confused. "What? Yeah, I was kissing her and you called and...and I realized what I was doing and..."

Sam snorts a laugh. "Oh man, you're in for it now. I'm guessing you've got about ten more seconds before she's down here to tear you a new one."

Still confused, Dean straightens and stares at his brother. "What the hell are you talking about? I just told you I kissed the girl you slept with last night and that's all you've got to say?"

Sam bursts out laughing. "Dude, you are so out of the loop. But we got you good didn't we?"

Before Dean has a chance to process his brother's words, the door slams open, barely missing his shoulder. He jumps out of the way as Sophia bursts into the room, eyes flashing with just as much rage as they had during their fight.

Her gaze first falls on an amused Sam. "What the hell are you laughing at?"

He grins at her, unaffected by her attitude. "Mr. Noble here. He thinks we slept together last night and then he kissed you."

She rolls her eyes, her gaze falling to Dean. "Really? You actually thought we slept together?"

Dean's mouth falls open. "Well yeah...you guys were...in the bar...and then...Sam...3AM..."

Sam and Sophia snort at his stuttering explanation. Sam holds out his fist and she bumps it. "Not only did we get him, but I was right, wasn't I?"

Sophia blushes lightly and ducks her head.

"Right about what?" Dean asks, finally recovering enough to figure out what the hell is going on. He crosses his arms, staring at her, eyebrows raised.

"Nothing," Sophia replies quickly.

Still grinning, Sam mutters, "You owe me big time."

In an effort to get the focus off Sam's words, Sophia turns her attention to Dean and the reason she came busting in here in the first place.

"Dean Winchester," she huffs, "you had no right to kiss me."

Fully aware now and relieved he hasn't just ruined his brother's love life, his cocky smile re-appears. "No? You didn't seem all that unhappy about it when you had your tongue in my mouth, sweetheart."

"When I... Are you kidding me? I wasn't..." Sophia words sputter to a halt as she steps nearer to him. "You had me backed into a wall, Dean! Cornered!"

So intent are they on each other, they don't notice Sam slipping out the door, shaking his head at the two of them.

"And you liked it!" Dean growls. "Otherwise, why were you purring my name?"

She gasps. She's not sure how, but she's practically on top of him. She pokes her finger at his chest. "Whatever! You're the one who took off without a damn word and left me standing there like a fool."

Without warning, she finds herself pressed back against the door.  _What the hell is it with him and hard surfaces?_

His lips brush flirtatiously over hers. "Well," he murmurs, his green eyes pinning her in place, "I can fix that for you right now. I didn't get nearly enough of that smart ass mouth before we were interrupted."

"Who says I want you to fix a damned thing?" she huffs. But her arms creep around his neck in contrast to her words.

He leans into her, and she feels a flush of warmth all the way to her toes. "Shut up and let me kiss you," he says as his mouth captures hers.

It's more playful this time. His tongue teases over her lower lip and for a moment she refuses him entry. He grinds against her, pinning her between his hard body and the cool steel of the door, and she gasps. Taking advantage, he slides his tongue against hers, slow and measured.

Sophia sighs softly and relaxes into him. Tilting her head, she gets the best angle to taste all of him. She's been kissed a few times in her day, but God, he's something else entirely. It's electric. Pure pleasure. Pure desire.

Her fingers tangle in his hair and she shifts, her hips rolling against his. Breathing hard, he drags his mouth from hers, pressing kisses on her jaw before making his way down her throat. When his tongue flicks over her pulse point, her knees nearly buckle.

He chuckles softly and glides back up to her ear. "So," he whispers, the rough growl of his voice making her shiver, "am I forgiven?"

It takes her a few seconds to gather her thoughts enough to reply coherently. "Maybe," she says breathlessly, a teasing smile tilting her lips. "But it might take a little more convincing."

"I can do this all day, babe," he says as he kisses his way back to her mouth. His hand slips under the hem of her shirt and caresses her belly, thumb rubbing small circles.

She purrs and arches against him. "Sounds good to me," she mumbles as his mouth takes hers again.

She's considering tearing his clothes off and having her way with him when Dean's phone interrupts them, chiming the arrival of a text.

"Again?" he rasps, not pulling his lips from her neck until the phone is out and open.

Glancing at it, he snickers and looks down at her. "It's Sam. He wants to know if we're coming to breakfast."

She giggles and flushes. "I didn't hear him leave, did you?"

"Nope. I was too busy getting my ass chewed by a hot babe."

He grins at her, and she has to restrain the urge to ask him to take her right there against the door. Trying to cover her thoughts, she snorts. "Not like you didn't deserve it," she mumbles as she straightens her shirt.

He pulls her away from the door and into his arms, dropping his mouth to hers for another lingering kiss. "Alright, c'mon, woman, I'm starving!"

She rolls her eyes, but can't stop her giggle. She shoves him away and opens the door. "Far be it from me to come between Dean Winchester and food."

He pushes her out the door and shuts it behind them. "Well," he says, eyebrows waggling, "if you had something else in mind, I might be...distracted..."

"You wish, Winchester," she calls over her shoulder as she strides across the parking lot, adding a little extra sway to her hips.

"Don't I know it," he mumbles under his breath as he follows her.

~~~SPN~~~

At the small diner across the street, Sophia and Dean slip into the booth opposite Sam. Dean scoots close enough so his hip and thigh are pressed against hers. When she starts to move away, his growl stops her and she flushes.

Sam grins at them from across the table. "So, uh, you kids done arguing for now?" He quirks an eyebrow, his gaze taking in Sophia's kiss swollen lips and Dean's satisfied smile. "Or whatever it was you were doing over there..."

Sophia rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest. "We're good, Sam, thanks."

"Well, not entirely," Dean says. "We never did finish our discussion about you going out without backup."

"Seriously, Dean?" Sophia nudges him with her elbow.

Sam snickers.

"What's so funny, Sasquatch?"

"You really think I would have slept with her then let her run off to take on the golem by herself?" Hearing Sophia clear her throat, he continues hastily, "Not that she couldn't handle it, of course, but really, Dean..."

Dean frowns. "Well, no, but..."

Sam sighs. "Fine, I'll spell it out for you. Sophia went at dawn because the golem only attacks at night. I knew she was perfectly safe to go collect some more dirt for our research."

Sophia jumps in. "All of which you would have known if you'd been paying any attention to the case."

"Although, I gotta say,  _I'm_ glad you weren't paying attention," Sam says with a laugh, "because the idea of you following her around trying to be the knight in shining armor is just priceless. I wish I could have seen it!"

"Oh, it was classic," Sophia says, snickering.

"Alright, whatever," Dean mutters. "Ha ha, very funny. Now, if you can take a break from being comedians, I'm pretty sure we still have a case to solve."

"Oh, right, excuse us, Mr. Professional," Sophia teases as Sam tries, rather unsuccessfully, to smother a laugh.

Dean slants a look at her, his eyes darkening, "I'll deal with you later," he murmurs, his voice rough with promise.

She shivers lightly, both at his tone and at the fact that his hand has dipped to her neck and his thumb is lightly caressing her skin. "We'll see about that, Winchester," she says, cringing at the breathless tone in her voice. She'd been trying for something more scathing.

"Mmmm," he purrs, leaning closer, his breath fanning her ear. "I'll look forward to it."

Sam clears his throat. "C'mon, you two, focus."

Dean grins and kisses just below her ear before turning back to Sam. "Okay, Sammy," he says, "tells us what you've got."


	6. Knockin' On Heaven's Door

Sam, Sophia and Dean spend the rest of the day planning their strategy. Sam had found some better data on the victims and they were pretty sure they knew who the next one would be. They suspected the golem would attack again that night.

Late in the afternoon, Sophia stands and stretches, yawning. "I think I'm gonna go back to my room and catch a nap or I'll be asleep on the job."

Dean looks up and gives her a leer. "You want company, babe?"

She snickers and rolls her eyes. "I won't get any sleep that way, Winchester."

"Not if I have anything to say about it, no."

She laughs and leans down to kiss him softly. "You can be my wake up call, though," she purrs, watching his eyes darken. "Come by at 5...that'll give us an hour before we have to leave here."

"An hour? Like that would be long enough," he says, giving her his famous panty-dropping grin. "You gonna make it worth my while?"

Sophia steps away and backs toward the door. "I guess you'll have to come by and see, won't you?" she says with a sultry smile as she slips out.

Back in her room, she strips off her jeans and climbs under the covers. She drifts to sleep with thoughts of what Dean might do when he comes to wake her.

~~~SPN~~~

Sophia is awakened by the sound of the door clicking open. She's not worried, she knows it's Dean. Not entirely sure how, but she does.

Pretending to be asleep, she feels him settle on the edge of the bed. He watches her for a moment, then she feels the back of his fingers glide across her cheek.

She still doesn't stir.

Then she feels his lips across her forehead and down over her cheek. They glide along her jaw and back to her ear.

"You can give it up," he whispers. "I know you're playing possum."

A smile tilts her lips and she cracks her eyes open. "Yeah, yeah, I'm awake," she mutters.

He sits up as she rolls onto her back. His bright green eyes never leaving hers as he reaches out to brush the hair from her face. His fingers linger, thumb brushing along the line of her jaw.

Something about his expression squeezes her heart. It's not lust, though she knows that burns just beyond the surface. It's something else. Something more tender. Something completely unexpected from Dean Winchester.

"Have I told you how beautiful you are?" he asks. The smoky sound of his voice curls her toes and sends heat pooling in her belly.

Flushing, she drops her gaze to his chest. "No, I don't think you've mentioned it," she replies softly.

He leans down over her, his mouth brushing over hers as he cups her cheek. "You are," he murmurs. "So beautiful..."

Completely disarmed, she trembles as he teases her lips with his own. With a soft sigh, she opens to him, feeling his tongue slide slowly against hers.

They've kissed a few times now. First angry, then playful. Now slow and tender. The sweetness of it is almost more than she can bear. She knows Dean Winchester the tease. The flirt. The player. But the man kissing her now is none of those things. The way he kisses her is none of those things.

She's so overwhelmed by what she's feeling, she barely notices when he shifts the blankets off her and crawls into her bed.

He settles half-draped over her, his thigh between hers. Open mouthed kisses drift along her jaw and down over her throat. A hand strokes over her arm then drifts along her ribs, past the curve of her waist to the rise of her hip.

Sophia wraps her arms around him, her hands gliding over the warm flannel of his shirt. She hums as his hand moves along her thigh. Wanting more of the heat of his mouth, she slides her hands up to his head, tugging at him.

"Kiss me," she whispers when he looks at her.

His eyes darken to almost black as he takes her mouth again. His tongue slicks over her bottom lip before darting in to tease hers.

Moaning softly, she arches against him, her fingers tangling in his hair. Her leg slips around his, anchoring him against her, savoring his warmth as it cocoons her.

Desire builds inside her, flowing like lava through her veins. She wants him. Badly. But it's more than just sex. She wants to feel like this forever. Safe and warm.

A voice in the back of her mind reminds her he's not safe. Not even close. But she squelches it. Pushes it away.

Dean moves one hand under the edge of her t-shirt and she's instantly thankful she'd taken off her bra before getting into bed. His fingers brush the underside of her breast and his soft groan rumbles through her.

He cups her lightly, thumb circling her nipple, making it taut. Drawing his mouth from hers, he stares down at her, naked hunger in his gaze.

Just then, a knock at the door startles them both, breaking the spell. Dean drops his head, resting it on her chest.

"Alright, Sam," he growls loudly, "just a minute." He looks up at Sophia, amusement and lust warring in his gaze. "How does he do that? I swear to God, he's doing it on purpose."

She snickers breathlessly. "And he's early, too. You'd better go stall him a minute so I can get dressed."

He growls again, his eyes traveling over her kiss swollen lips, pink cheeks and budded nipples poking through the thin cotton of her t-shirt.

"I'm not done with you," he mutters darkly as he moves off her with clear reluctance. "Not even close."

Shivering, she nods, wordless for once.

He kisses her softly, then moves to the door. She can hear him haranguing Sam as she slips from the bed and dresses quickly.

She sighs as she laces up her boots.  _This is gonna get complicated in a hurry._

~~~SPN~~~

Sophia slips around the back corner of the house, trying to keep Sam and Dean in sight, but staying out of the light.

They've been waiting hours and it's starting to look like he's not going to show. Sam's analysis had been solid, but something didn't feel right.

Dean makes his way slowly to her surveillance spot and crouches next to her. "Looks like we got it wrong."

"Yeah, it's getting pretty late," she replies, glancing at her watch. The lightly glowing hands show 3:30AM. "I don't know how we could have been wrong, though. Sam's research was dead-on."

Dean's eyes roam the backyard, looking for anything out of the ordinary, any kind of clue. "I don't know, maybe the guy controlling the golem knows we're onto him."

"That's gonna make this a hell of a lot tougher then."

"Yeah, we'll have to think of another way to get to him. Your spell stuff maybe."

She quirks an eyebrow at him, though he won't be able to tell in the dim light. "I thought you hated that I can do that."

He shifts to face her, his eyes meeting her, frown on his face. "I don't hate it. What are you talking about?"

She shrugs. "Well, you made those comments at the diner when I told you what I could do and then when Sam came down to help me, you stayed away."

Rolling his eyes, he says, "I'm sorry. I stayed away because I wanted Sam to have you to himself."

Sophia covers her mouth to stifle her laughter. "Seriously? God, you are so dense."

He gives her gentle shove, rocking her back into the bushes. "Yeah, well, you proved me right with that little show in the bar." His eyes rake over her and his gaze warms her to the bone. "I still owe you for that, by the way."

"You deserved it...babe."

He snorts softly and checks his watch. "I think I'm ready to call it," he says. "Let me go talk to Sam and then we'll get out of here." He tosses her another heated glance before leaning over to kiss her. It promises pleasure and she almost moans.

She watches him walk away, already thinking about what he might look like without all those clothes. What she doesn't see, however, is the shadow slinking along the fence toward her.

She stands and slowly makes her away along the bushes toward Sam and Dean's position. Just as she reaches the end of hedge, she hears a twig snap behind her. Before she can turn, she feels the sharp tearing of a knife at her back and she gasps in surprise.

The noise catches Dean's attention and he turns toward her, eyes wide as he takes in the shadowy figure and her pale face.

She drops to her knees, one hand reaching toward Dean, the other digging into the cold dirt of the garden.

The last thing she hears as her face hits the ground is Dean's tortured voice shouting her name.


	7. I Can't Get No Satisfaction

Sam swings open the door, heading straight for the medical supplies. Dean follows, Sophia in his arms. He sits her gently on the edge of the bed and drops to his knees beside her.

"Are you hanging in there, babe?" Deans asks, pushing her hair out of her face.

She nods once, face pale, expression tight with pain. "Don't call me babe," she says, a small smile turning up the corner of her mouth.

Dean smirks as expected, but it doesn't quite replace the worry in his eyes.

Sam returns, first aid kit, alcohol and wet washcloths in hand. He starts to hand them to Dean, but Sophia waves him off.

"No, Sam, you're gonna do it," she rasps as she starts to shrug off her jacket.

Dean stares at her. "Wait, what? I'm going to..."

She holds up a hand to stop him. "Dean, no, don't be ridiculous." She casts a pointed glance at his hands, which are noticeably unsteady. She ignores his glare and continues, eyes dropping to the floor. "Besides, I'll feel better if...if you're here next to me."

Sophia reaches for the buttons on her shirt with a wince. Dean takes her hands, pushing them gently to her lap. He undoes the buttons with speedy efficiency. He pushes the shirt off her shoulders, easing it off as gently as he can. "You know," he says, "this was not how I imagined undressing you tonight."

She huffs a laugh. "I'll bet Sam wasn't standing around watching, huh?"

Sophia turns to lay on her stomach, face hidden in the crook of her elbow. She doesn't want Dean to see the tears she knows she's not going to be able to hold back.

"I'm going to clean it up first, Sophia," Sam says gently. "This is going to sting."

She flinches, hissing as the washcloth touches her back. Sam flinches too, but holds steady. All three flinch as the alcohol splashes on the wound.

Sam preps the needle and thread, making sure everything is sterilized. "Are you ready?"

She nods, face still hidden in her arm. After a pause, her free hand reaches out blindly in Dean's direction, fingers grasping, searching.

Dean takes her hand in both of his. His gaze softens and he strokes the back of it with his thumb. "I'm here, sweetheart," he says quietly. He flicks a glance at Sam, giving him a quick nod.

Sophia freezes as the needle slides into her skin, and her fingers tighten around Dean's painfully. The stroking of his thumb stutters a bit, but doesn't stop. She tries to keep breathing as the needle slowly pierces her tender flesh, but can only manage hitching half-sobs. She tightens her jaw and tries to push back the tears, but it's too much.

Through the pain, she can hear Dean. He's moved closer to the bed, near her head, and he's creating a non-stop patter. She tries to focus on his rough voice: the soothing tone, the tender words.

He tells her she's doing great. She's so strong. Everything's gonna be fine. Hang in there. It's okay, because Sam's almost done.

Then his tone shifts slightly. I'll take care of you. You'll be just fine. I won't let anything happen to you again. Stay with me.

As Sam continues stitching, the combination of pain, blood loss and shock catch up with her. For the second time that night, the last thing she hears is Dean calling her name.

~~~SPN~~~

"She's fine, Dean, she'll wake up in a few minutes. She just passed out. It's probably for the best."

Dean frowns up at his brother from his position on the floor next to Sophia. "Are you sure, Sam? Should we take her..."

"She said she didn't want to go to the hospital. She'll be all right. It's lucky she had that jacket on or it would have been much deeper."

Dean shifts the blanket over Sophia, making sure she's covered before moving to stand next to his brother. He rubs both hands over his face, the stress of whole evening making him suddenly tired.

Sam looks at him out of the corner of his eye as he cleans up at the bathroom sink. "So," he says casually, "I was thinking..."

Rolling his eyes, Dean leans back against the wall, arms crossed. "Oh yeah? Sounds like trouble to me."

Ignoring the teasing, Sam continues. "I was thinking it might be a good idea to ask Sophia to keep hunting with us."

Dean stiffens, his eyes narrowing, but he doesn't reply.

"Yeah, you know. She doesn't have any family or anything, so she hunts alone. We could watch out for her. And she's really good at the spell stuff, which neither of us can really do."

Sam glances at Dean again, trying to gauge his reaction. He knows Dean would never suggest this, whether it occurred to him or not. He's always ready to sacrifice for Sam. But this time, Dean needs to do something for himself. Sophia is good for both of them and Sam's always wondered what it would be like to have a sister.

Dean still doesn't reply, just shifts his gaze to the woman on the bed. Sam can almost see the wheels turning in Dean's head and suppresses a chuckle.

"She's really something, isn't she?" Dean says softly.

"She is," Sam agrees. "We make a good team, too."

Dean nods absently as Sophia starts to stir. He's at her side when her eyes flutter open.

She tries to sit, but he holds her in place. "Easy, babe. You passed out."

She looks up at him, eyes a little unfocused. "Dean?"

"Yeah, I'm here. You're okay."

She reaches for his hand, holding it tightly as her vision clears and she's able to see him. She moves again to sit and this time he helps her.

She shakes her head and offers them a half-hearted smile. "Sorry about that." Suddenly realizing she's only half dressed, she pulls the blanket more closely around her.

Dean quickly shrugs off his flannel shirt and helps her into it, buttoning it up as she smiles at him gratefully.

Sam moves to the end of the bed and kneels. "How're you feeling?"

"Not bad," she says, "a little dizzy."

Sam hands her a bottle of orange juice. "Here, try this. The fluids and sugar should help."

She nods and takes a few swallows. She moves to stand but wobbles slightly, causing Dean to wrap an arm around her waist.

"I'm fine," she says with a frown. "I just need some rest."

Dean nods, eyes never moving from her face. "Let's get you back to your room, then."

Sophia shakes her head, moving toward the door. "I'll be fine, Dean, really."

He rolls his eyes. "Don't bother arguing with me, Sophia," he mutters. "I'm walking you back to your room and making sure you get settled in."

She sighs heavily, too tired to fight. "Fine, let's go."

~~~SPN~~~

Once in her room, Sophia kicks off her shoes, and pulls off her jeans, ignoring Dean behind her. She thinks of taking off his shirt, but can't bring herself to do it. It's warm and soft and it smells like him.

She hears Dean's snicker when she works the bra out from under the shirt without taking it off.

She turns to face him, sassy remark on her lips when - just like that - the events of the night hit her full force. Her hand, trembling, comes to cover her mouth. As if it's happening again, she feels the strange man behind her, feels the knife in her back, feels the warmth of the blood as it streams down her side. A strangled sob escapes her, even as she struggles to hold it in, and her knees buckle.

Before she's halfway down, Dean catches her and hauls her into his arms. His hand strokes her hair, his voice soft and soothing in her ear. She melts into him, fingers clutching at his t-shirt.

"Shhh," Dean murmurs, holding her as tightly as he dares without aggravating her injury. "It's alright. You're safe now. I've got you."

Her shuddering sobs break his heart. He doesn't know what else to do, so he continues rubbing his hands up and down her back, whispering to her. He presses soft kisses to her forehead, her temple, her cheek.

Eventually her sobs ease. She sucks in a deep breath, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. Slightly horrified at her breakdown, she tries to pull away from Dean, mumbling an embarrassed, "I'm sorry, I didn't..."

He lets her go, but not far. "Hey, it's okay," he says, holding her hands in his. "After what you've been through tonight, you're entitled."

She raises her gaze to his, searching, not entirely sure what she's looking for, but needing...something.

He breaks eye contact first, nudging her toward the bed. "Come on, you need to get some rest. Let's get you tucked in."

She doesn't resist him, climbing into the bed and letting him tuck the blankets around her.

"I'm going to stay here," he says in a tone clearly indicating resistance is futile, "in case you need anything."

She nods, eyes dark and serious. He wants nothing more than to take her in his arms again, to make sure she's protected, but he pushes back the feeling. She needs her rest. He turns off the light, pulling off his boots and jeans before climbing into the bed closest to the door.

Moments later, he hears her shifting beneath the blankets and opens his eyes in time to see her stand. She steps across the space to the side of his bed. He can see her fingers twisting in the hem of his shirt, betraying her uncertainty. Without a word, he shifts onto his side and pulls back the blankets in a silent invitation.

Sophia slips in beside him, curling against his chest as if she belongs there. Her hand clutches his t-shirt and she drags in a deep breath. As she releases it, she sinks into him, her body fitting naturally into his. His warmth and the steady thud of his heart lull her to sleep in moments.

Dean wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her leg over his hip, holding her as close as he dares.

His thoughts turn to Sam's suggestion as he strokes her back. He wonders if they could really make it work. Wonders if he could really have something like that...something good.

~~~SPN~~~

Dawn is just beginning to lighten the sky when Dean slowly comes awake. His eyes flutter open to find Sophia's dark ones watching him. She's still pressed against him, her leg over his, their hips fitted intimately together. She doesn't seem inclined to move away.

He reaches up to cup her cheek, thumb stroking across her cheekbone. "You good?" he murmurs, voice husky with sleep and some emotion he's not ready to name.

She nods, eyes fluttering half closed as she leans into his hand. They flicker open again when she feels him shift nearer. Their gazes meet, each holding the other's.

Dean leans closer, so close their breath mingles and he can see the pulse fluttering in her neck. He brushes his lips against hers, barely touching, his eyes not leaving hers. He hears her sigh and feels her lips part beneath his. His tongue slips out, grazing her lower lip.

Moving his hand from her cheek to weave into her tangled hair, he tilts her head to give him better access. He feels her hand fist in his shirt, drawing him in. He molds his lips to hers, exploring her mouth with his tongue. She opens further to him without hesitation, her tongue dancing languidly against his.

There's no rush, no anxiety, no hurry. It's as if the whole world has focused down to the sweet heat of her mouth and he can't think of anything but how good she tastes. In between kisses, he nibbles at her lips, glides his tongue over her jaw, nuzzles her cheek. But he always comes back to her luscious mouth, losing himself in it. Losing himself in her.

Dean rolls her under him as he sneaks a hand under the flannel shirt, fingers seeking the edge of her bandage, tracing around it. "I'm sorry you got hurt," he whispers against her lips. "I'm sorry I didn't protect you."

Sophia shakes her head. Her mouth ghosts across his, fingers smoothing the frown from his face. "Shhhh," she says, "it was my fault. I wasn't paying enough attention." She nuzzles his neck, hiding her face. "You don't have to feel responsible for me, Dean. I'm not your problem."

He stiffens slightly, then tips her chin up. He waits for her to look at him. "Listen to me, Sophia. You're not a problem, mine or anyone else's." He swallows hard. "But I'm gonna do my best to make sure you're protected from here on out."

She can see his eyes are serious and it sends a shiver through her. Based on his reputation, there's no reason on earth she should trust him. But instinctively, she does.

Dean's mouth drops back to hers as his fingers move to the buttons on her shirt. As it slips open, he moves down, his mouth tasting and teasing across her skin.

He pushes the soft fabric from her body and sucks in a breath as looks down at her. "Perfect," he murmurs as he leans in and kisses between her breasts.

Sophia shifts restlessly beneath him, the burn of the wound on her back fading into silence as a burn of different kind takes over. Tangling her fingers in his short hair, she slides her bare leg over his, his hair tickling her smooth skin.

Dean flicks his tongue over her breast. He hears her breath quicken and feels her leg tighten around his. One hand moves along her hip and down her thigh, holding her against him, feeling the heat of her through her thin panties.

With a soft groan, he sucks at her breast, tongue slipping over her soft skin. Moving to its mate, he gives it equal attention as the sounds she makes grow louder.

"Dean," she sighs as he kisses over her belly, tongue dipping into her navel. His breath is hot on her skin and makes her shiver with need.

His mouth keeps moving, smoothing along the curve of her hip, licking across the lace at the top of her panties. "I want you," he breathes as his fingers catch at the fabric, pulling it down.

"Yes," she pants, writhing under him. "Yes..."

His phone rings, sharp and loud in the quiet room.

"Son of a bitch."


	8. Light My Fire

"There's been another victim."

Sophia can hear the words from where she lies beneath Dean. She closes her eyes and heaves a sigh.

"Damn it," Dean mutters. He rolls off Sophia and onto his back. "Alright, have they moved the body yet? … Right. … Ok, Sophia and I will head down to the morgue and meet you back here later."

"Don't forget to gather some more dirt!" Sophia says, raising her voice to allow Sam to hear her.

Dean rolls his eyes. "Yeah, he says he'll get more dirt."

Sophia rolls out of the bed as Dean finishes his conversation with Sam. She doesn't get far before Dean's behind her, turning her back into his arms.

His lips brush hers lightly as one hand tangles in her hair, the other circling her waist, careful of her wound. "When we catch this guy, I'm turning off all the phones, threatening my brother with serious bodily harm if he even  _thinks_  of interrupting and then I'm taking you to bed. For a week." Then he catches her mouth in a long, slow kiss that leaves her breathless.

Releasing her, he heads for the door, picking up his jacket on the way. "See you in the parking lot in 20 minutes."

Sophia stands there for a moment, staring after him, dazed from his kiss, but smiling stupidly. She touches her lips lightly and then heads for the bathroom, the silly smile still on her face.

~~~SPN~~~

"I just don't know if it'll work, Dean," Sophia says as she pushes the door to the Winchester's motel room open and trudges inside.

Dean comes in behind her and throws his keys on the small table. Loosening his tie, he meets Sam's curious look and shrugs. "I want her to try the spells again," he says. "With the new dirt you collected from this morning's victim."

Sophia flops on the bed near Sam's feet, falling back with a heavy sigh. Eyes closed, she mumbles, "And I'm telling you I don't know if it'll work. I still don't have it perfected and now that this guy knows we're looking for him, there's no telling what he's doing to keep us from finding him."

Putting his laptop to the side, Sam sits up, nudging Sophia lightly with one sock-clad foot. "No way to know unless we try."

"But what if..." Sophia swallows the words, keeping her eyes closed. They'd been wrong last night and look what happened. If they were wrong again, someone else could get hurt.

"I know," Sam replies, sympathy coloring his voice. "But we can't just sit around and wait. Besides, I was thinking maybe if we could tune it more toward the master and less toward the victims, it might let us track him during the day."

Sophia's eyes flutter open and she stares up at Sam, her face crinkling slightly as she runs through possible changes. After a moment, she sits up, eyes wide. "Well," she says, drawing the word out slightly, "we could change the wording a little, to call for the caster of the spell. And then..."

"Increase the amount of dirt as the focusing object to increase..." Sam continues.

"The power of the spell and lead us back to the originator!" Sophia finishes, grinning.

Dean leans back against the table, watching them ping back and forth. Sam was definitely right, Sophia certainly adds a lot to their game. When she turns and smiles up at him, clearly delighted to have another path to pursue, his heart skips a beat at the sight.

~~~SPN~~~

"So," Dean says, shifting in his seat for about the fiftieth time in the last ten minutes, "Bobby said you come from a family of hunters, but you hunt alone. How come you don't work with them?"

Dean and Sophia have been sitting outside an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town for over an hour. Supposedly this is where the golem's dirt said whoever was casting the spell was working from, but they hadn't seen any kind of activity so far. Sam was posted on the opposite side of the building, but no luck there either.

He glances over at Sophia when she doesn't answer right away and notices her face has gone pale, her fingers twisting together in her lap. He sucks in a breath and almost reaches for her. "Oh, um, never mind, I don't need to know." He pauses, casting for something else to talk about. "So, hey, uh, that was some great pie at that diner today, huh?"

The tension in Sophia's shoulders eases slightly and she smiles. "It's ok," she says softly. "They're...gone. My parents, that is. And I'm an only child."

"Oh, I'm...sorry." He wants to ask what happened, but given her reaction, it's clearly nothing good. He's not going to make her dredge up anything so obviously painful.

"It's years ago now," she says with a shrug, trying to play it off. "I'd just turned 20 and came home for the weekend from college. I found..." She swallows hard, her fingers twisting again. "I found Mom's body in the kitchen, Dad's in the hallway. They were...it was...bad." She talks faster now, the words spilling out. "I called the police, but obviously there was nothing they could do. I salted and burned their bodies and started Hunting. I promised I'd find what killed them and make it pay. Got close a few times, but not close enough. I've been Hunting ever since."

By the time she finishes, her voice is thick with tears Dean can see she's trying desperately not to shed. After a moment's hesitation, he reaches out, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Tugging gently, he growls, "Come here."

She almost resists, then allows him to draw her close, but remains stiff in his embrace.

"I'm sorry," he says again, kissing her temple. He strokes his hand lightly up and down her arm, trying to soothe. While he knows something of what she must be feeling, he doesn't really know what to say that doesn't sound stupid. She probably knows his story anyway; most Hunters know what happened to Mary Winchester.

Of course, he also understands her desire for revenge. The need to hunt down whatever took her family from her and make it suffer. Make it suffer like it made her suffer. Oh yeah, he definitely understands _that_.

In the end, Dean doesn't try to say anything, just pulls her closer, burying his face in her hair. She finally relaxes into his arms, letting her head drop to his shoulder. Her shuddering breaths even out and her hands stop twisting themselves into knots.

"Thank you," she whispers. She reaches for his hand, tangling their fingers together and squeezing lightly.

He squeezes back, resting his chin on her head. "For what?" he asks with a snort. "Digging up painful old memories? Or almost making you cry?"

Sophia laughs softly, nuzzling his neck. "Mmmm, not so much. I meant thank you for understanding."

"But I didn't..."

"That's how I know you understand."

Dean frowns down at her head, not really sure what she's talking about, but not interested in looking a gift horse in the mouth. At least she's not mad at him.

Several minutes pass in silence. Dean tries to concentrate on watching for their target, but finds himself completely distracted by the woman in his arms. And not because he's uncomfortable; but just the opposite. It feels natural. Like she belongs there beside him.

The thought startles him, almost has him pushing her away. He stiffens, but she just snuggles closer, settling in and staring out the window as if they've been here a hundred times already. As if she's always been here.

Before his panic can get the better of him with these unexpected thoughts, his phone buzzes. "Yeah, Sammy," he answers gruffly as Sophia straightens next to him. He frowns and reaches for the keys in the ignition. "Ok, we'll be right there."

Sophia scoots back over to her side of the car, slipping her gun from her back and checking the load. "What've we got?" she asks, dropping instantly back into professional mode.

He tosses the phone on the seat and pulls the car out of the parking lot, expression grim. "Sam says he saw the guy go in."

"How does he know it's our guy?"

"The golem was with him."

~~~SPN~~~

The three Hunters slip into the warehouse and move in different directions. Dean gives a quick glance at Sophia, reluctant to leave her side, but knowing they'll cover more ground in the massive space if they separate.

The plan, such as it was, would be to find the golem and his master, disable the golem by removing the letters as Sophia had done the night they met, and then "disable" the master. Dean had been all for just killing the guy, but the other two had insisted he be left for the local PD.

Glancing around the next corner, Dean continues his search. His boots shuffle quietly on the concrete floor and he listens closely for any other sounds indicating the presence of their target. He's nearly to the end of his section when he hears a shout from behind him. He turns and runs back the way he came, following the sounds of a scuffle off to his left.

Coming around the last corner, he almost plows into his brother's back. Moving around to Sam's left side, he scans the scene in front of him, trying to figure out what the hell is going on. He sees Sophia off to his right, her gun trained on something further out. She looks a little mussed and dirty, but all in one piece and he sighs softly in relief.

"Well, hello," says a voice from the far side of the room, "another guest to the party. How exciting."

Focusing on the voice, Dean finally locates the guy they've been looking for all week. Not surprisingly, he's completely unassuming. Total Joe next door. Average height. Average weight. Long, stringy, dark hair pulled back in pony-tail. Long-sleeved Led Zeppelin shirt.  _At least he has good taste in music._

The golem stands slightly in front of him, huge and silent. Its eyes, if that's what they are, glow sullenly in its completely expressionless face.  _The damn thing is just freakin' creepy_. Its massive presence is enough to block their fire and keep any of them from plugging the jerk who controls it.

"Just give it up, man," Sam says, shifting slowly forward. "We know you probably didn't mean to hurt those people. Golems are hard to control, right? Not too bright."

The guy laughs. "Maybe not at first, but they deserved what they got." He pauses, whispering something to the golem. "And by the way, you can stop moving this way unless you want to get more up close and personal with my friend here."

Sam stops moving, jaw tightening. "What could they have possibly done to deserve to die like that?"

Dean looks over at Sam, disbelief on his face. Who the hell cares what this guy was thinking? What did Sam think this was, Law and Order or something? But then something else catches his eye.

Sophia creeps along the wall, keeping to the shadows, clearly trying to get the drop on the guy. Sam is trying to keep him distracted with conversation.

"Oh, so is this the part in the show where I tell you my evil plans and my motive?" the man says with a chuckle. Dean tries to suppress his snicker, but gets a hard look from Sam anyway.

"Something like that, yeah," Sam replies. "Surely those poor women weren't that terrible."

The man snorts. "They were bitches. Ugly, hateful bitches and they deserved to die. I was perfectly friendly to them, just wanted to take them out, treat them like queens. But they blew me off. Told me I was a jerk." The guy shuffles his feet, his voice hardening as he continues. "I was just going to scare them, but... Anyway, they  _did_  deserve exactly what they got."

"Jena was married, you know," Sam says. "She wouldn't have been looking for a date. She didn't need to die for that."

"Yeah, well, she didn't have to be a bitch either." The guy moves closer to the golem and Dean can see the evil gleam in his eye. "Look, this is fascinating and all, but I've got things to do and you're in my way. So..."

A shot rings out and the guy cries out in pain. Sophia had gotten close enough to fire, but only close enough to wing his shoulder. He grabs at his shoulder, howling in anger as he glares at her. "No!" he screams, falling back, "No! I won't let you stop me!" He leans toward the golem, still screaming. "Kill! Kill! Kill!"

And all then all hell breaks loose.


	9. Should I Stay or Should I Go

" _Kill! Kill! Kill!"_

The man's words ring in the still of the warehouse. The three Hunters tense, hands tight on their weapons.

The golem shifts, moving slowly, as if it's just coming awake. Something flickers in the light spots where its eyes should be. It starts to turn, arms raising like some odd parody of Frankenstein's monster.

"Kill!" the killer screams again as he tries to struggle away, holding the wound on his arm.

Sophia starts after him, keeping the golem in her peripheral view.

"Sophia, wait," Dean calls, scooting around Sam in an attempt to follow her, but she ignores him.

A great hole opens on the golem's face and a weird scream issues forth, startling everyone (in the room). It starts to move toward the back of the room, away from Sam and Dean, nearer to its creator. It screams again and the man stops, turning to face the creature.

Sophia, however, doesn't stop in her pursuit, ending up between the golem and its apparent target, her back exposed.

"Oh God," murmurs Dean, willing his feet to move forward. "Sophia..."

The golem moves with surprising speed once it locks onto its target, its large body hurtling toward the man and Sophia. The strange sounds it makes echo through the building, burying Dean and Sam's shouted warnings.

Sophia takes a stance in front of the killer. "Get down," she growls, her gun pointed at him. "Don't make me shoot you again."

The man, looking past her, sees the golem coming, and cowers. "No, no, you can't. I  _made_  you. I own you."

Howling yet again, the golem continues forward, lunging at Sophia just as she starts to turn. Reaching out, it picks her up as if she weighs no more than a feather, and holds her against its massive chest. Giving a strangled squeak of effort, she struggles, but its grip is strong.

The golem's creator sags with apparent relief. "Yes, that's right, kill her!" he shouts backing away from the pair.

With another wordless shriek, the golem tosses Sophia aside like a doll. Her body goes skidding across the smooth floor of the warehouse, coming to a stop many feet away, crumpled and motionless.

Dean pushes past Sam, his feet finally responding to the frantic warnings in his brain. For the second time in as many days, Sophia's name is forced from his lips as he watches her still form in horror.

With no one now in between it and its target, the golem descends on its maker. "Nooooo..." The man's scream is cut off abruptly as the golem wraps him in its deadly embrace. The golem makes a deep growling sound, a sharp contrast to its previous eerie wails . It shakes the man in its arms, the human's arms and legs flopping, gutteral moans escaping him. The golem pulls him back in and there's a sharp snap as the man's neck breaks. His tortured sounds cease abruptly.

The creature drops the man at its feet, grumbling harshly. It turns slowly, the bright lights of its eyes searching the room, as if unsure what to do next.

Sam darts forward, finds its wrist and wipes away the appropriate letter before the thing can react. It gives another rough groan, then collapses in a pile of dirt, sending mud and grass and leaves flying everywhere.

On the other side of the room, Dean crouches at Sophia's side. Gently, he brushes the hair from her face, afraid to move her in case she's seriously injured. "Baby?" he murmurs, fingers soft against her cheek, trying to coax her awake.  _Please wake up. I can't lose you now._  The words echo in his head, but he can't get them out. Too many years of keeping too many things inside.

Her eyes flutter open and she immediately tries to push herself into a seated position. "Dean? What happened?"

He eases her upright, his hands moving over her, looking for any injury. "Are you hurt? How do you feel?" His voice is rough with worry, but there's a thread of relief as she appears to be uninjured.

Her eyes widen as she remembers the evening's events. She starts to scramble up, but he grabs her arms to hold her still. "No, Dean, the golem...it tried to...it'll..."

"It's gone," Sam says quietly, appearing behind Dean. "It did just what you said it would. It turned on its creator and killed him."

Sophia relaxes leaning into Dean as he wraps his arms around her. He buries his face in her hair for a moment, then holds her slightly away from him, tilting her face up to his. His thumbs rub the dirt from her jaw. "Are you okay, sweetheart? Are you sure you're not hurt?"

She nods quickly, a rueful smile crossing her face. "We gotta stop having this conversation, Winchester. It's bad for my image if I'm always getting hurt and you're running to save me."

He snorts, rolling his eyes, relief filling his face. He stands and helps her to her feet, wrapping his arm around her to keep her close. "God knows I'd hate to ruin your image," he growls.

Sam jerks his head toward the dead man and the pile of dirt and muck. "What should we do with the dead guy?"

Dean shrugs, dragging his eyes from Sophia's face to glance at the grotesque looking figure on the floor, head twisted at an unnatural angle. "Leave him here for the cops. The dirt will tie him to the other murders."

"Anonymous call to 911?"

"Works for me," Dean replies. "I'm not interested in spending any more effort on this douchebag." He looks down at the woman curled against him, and her arms tighten around his waist. "I got better things to do."

~~~SPN~~~

Sophia turns the key in the lock and pushes the motel room door open with her hip. Her eyes don't waver from Dean's as she pulls him with her into the room.

The air between them is practically sparking with tension. With anticipation. They stare at each other for a long moment, breath coming faster by the second.

Dean's not sure who moves first, but in an instant, their mouths are fused. Impatient hands shove at lightweight jackets and pull at cotton shirts.

Dragging her lips from his, Sophia mumbles, "I need a shower first. I'm covered in mud."

"Not now," he growls in reply, trying to reach for her.

"Yes, now," she says, reaching for the hem on her long-sleeved t-shirt. She grins as his gaze falls to her breasts. "But I'm not taking it alone..."

It takes a second for her words to filter through his lust fogged brain, but when they do, he smirks and moves to strip off his flannel shirt. "Gotta save water, right?"

"Something like that." She snickers and pulls up her shirt. She gets her shirt nearly over her bra before stopping suddenly. Frowning, she says, "Wait."

Dean nearly groans in disappointment. No, no, no. She can't be changing her mind now.

Their eyes meet and he raises an eyebrow as he sees the wicked sparkle in hers.

"Do me a favor, babe," she says huskily. "Turn off that damned phone."

With a husky laugh, he pulls out his phone, sends a quick text and then powers it off. "Did you one better," he mumbles as he strips off his shirt. "I sent a text to my brother to tell him he's a dead man if I see his face before noon tomorrow."

Sophia's giggle is cut off as she takes in the sight of his bare chest, the breadth of his shoulders tapering to a narrow waist. His abs tighten and release as he reaches for his belt buckle and the fastening on his jeans.

"You gonna stare all night or are you gonna get undressed?"

She starts at his rasping growl, her eyes flying up to his. The smirk on his face sends heat coiling in her belly and has her reaching to pull her own t-shirt off.

Dean finds himself staring as she undoes her jeans and slides them down long legs. He gets a good look at her cleavage as she bends forward and has to stop himself from just grabbing her and throwing her on the bed.

Sophia heads to the bathroom, still clad in her bra and panties, giving a little wiggle to her walk as she goes. "You gonna stare all night or are you gonna get in the shower?"

With another growl, he strips down to his boxers and follows her, hearing the water come on as he steps into the bathroom and shuts the door.

"Ladies, first, babe," he rasps, giving her another of those practically indecent grins.

She flushes slightly, but holds his eyes as she reaches behind her for the catch on her bra. She notices his eyes don't stay long with hers, drifting to her chest instead. Adding a little extra arch to her back, she releases the clasp and shimmies the bra straps down her arm, before tossing it to the floor.

The heat in his gaze both warms her and makes her brave. Turning slightly away from him, she hooks her thumbs in her panties. Bending at the waist, she tugs them down, giving him a long look at her bottom as she does. She almost shivers as she feels his gaze rake over her and her stomach gives a little lurch.

Dean, for his part, has to remember to breathe as he stares at her. He can just see the curve of her bare breast as she leans forward. The sight of the lacy panties sliding off her luscious ass is nearly more than he can take. Again, he fights the urge to just toss her down and lose himself.

Swallowing hard, he watches as she shoves aside the shower curtain and steps inside. She pokes her head around the curtain, her eyes laughing as she her gaze drifts down to his waist and beyond.

"Your turn...babe," she says, her voice low and throaty.

Quickly he yanks off his boxer briefs and tosses them aside, smirking when he hears her quick intake of breath. Slipping into the shower, he pulls her into his arms before pushing them both under the warm water.

Their mouths meet again, just as hungry as before. Tongues slide past each other as each delves deep into the heat of the other's mouth. Greedy, seeking hands slick over wet skin, eager for more.

Breaking away, Sophia grabs a washcloth and her soap, lathering up as she tries to catch her breath. She swipes the sudsy cloth over his chest, her teeth worrying her lip as she strokes the cloth ever lower.

With a rough groan, Dean snatches the cloth from her and returns the favor, his free hand joining in as the material slides over her breasts, drawing a soft moan from her. He drags the cloth down over her belly, watching as her stomach contracts and releases under his touch. Dipping between her thighs, he licks his lips as she shudders before dragging his mouth down to hers.

Dean turns them and presses her back into the wall, their bodies molding together. He pulls his mouth from hers, sliding it down over her neck, nipping along her collarbone. She arches against him, her leg moving up over his thigh, hungry little noises coming from her throat.

He steps away, taking a deep breath. "Not here," he grinds out as she sighs in frustration. "I want you in a bed." He grins at her. "At least for the first time."

Sophia giggles softly and gestures at him to shut off the water. "Then let's find a bed then, shall we?"

They nearly fall out of the shower in their haste. Drying off becomes another bit of tortuous foreplay as they explore each other. Sophia finally shoves him toward the door. "Bed, Dean," she mutters, voice hoarse with pleasure. "Now."

He smirks, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her with him into the bedroom. "Mmmmm, I like it when you take charge like that."

She rolls her eyes and propelling him back to the bed before falling on top of him. She can feel his arousal against her belly and it sends the heat that's been building inside her to the boiling point. "I'll remind you of that later," she purrs, rubbing against him, smiling at his moan.

Seconds later, she finds herself on her back, gasping as his mouth assaults her skin. She shifts restlessly beneath him as he nips and sucks and teases his way over her body. It's as if he's everywhere. All at once. Consuming her. Setting and quenching fires every place his mouth and hands can reach.

"Dean," she whimpers, writhing beneath him. "Dean, please..." Her hands drift over his shoulders, over his neck, fingers tangling in his hair.

He moves back up over her, his control hanging by a thread. "God, I want you so much," he murmurs, his lips drifting along her jaw as he runs his hands along her hips to her waist. "I want to be inside you. Feel you."

"Oh yes," she gasps in response, her hips rising of their own accord, her thighs falling open, offering herself to him. "Yes, please."

"Protection," he mutters, rocking against her in anticipation.

"Nightstand."

Shifting off her slightly, he digs in the drawer, fingers clumsy with desire. He retrieves a condom and rips it open with his teeth. Before he can put it on, she snags it from his fingers, smoothing it over him with teasing fingers.

"Sophia..." he moans, reaching for her hands. She giggles as he tangles their fingers and presses her arms back over her head. The giggling stops as he settles between her legs.

Then there's only more soft whispers and ragged moans. Uneven breaths and murmured encouragement. Their bodies move together seamlessly. Heat swells between them, rising, cresting. Their mouths meet, tongues tease. Necks arch as mouths find salty skin and taste it.

"More...yes...more...so close," Sophia whimpers, her fingers raking down his back. He shifts her beneath him, changing the angle and it's enough to send her flying over the edge, calling his name as she does.

Dean presses her down into the bed, groaning heavily as he finds his own release, before collapsing atop her, too boneless to move.

Her breath huffs out on a half laugh as he does, but she doesn't allow him to move, instead wrapping herself around him. His weight is perfect. He surrounds her. Settles her. Grounds her as she catches her breath from the force of their passion.

After a moment, he finally shifts from her, tucking her against his side. She curls into him, her fingers flexing against his chest, feeling his heartbeat slow with his breath. She's been with other men, but this is the first time anyone's ever made her feel like Dean just did. She closes her eyes, tries to push away the traitorous thoughts. This isn't going anywhere. He's just not that guy.

Searching for the right words, he struggles with the feelings overwhelming him. Sex for Dean is usually fun. A relaxation. Stress reliever. One nighter. But this. This is different. His hand steals over hers, holding it, thumb caressing her palm. He wants her stay. God help him, he wants to wake up next to her.

Dean Winchester is in trouble.


End file.
